


It's Just Politics (Catalyst Extra/Deleted Scenes)

by A_Concerned_Citizen



Series: Catalyst [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, But this is just extra stuff so it's not necessary to read, Character Death, F/F, Gen, Go read Catalyst to understand any of this, Honestly I don't know if there will be any fluff but uhhh, I'll be adding tags as I need to, Lots of introspection and looking at specific characters, M/M, Maybe fluff, Non-Chronological, Random scenes from Catalyst that for whatever reason aren't in the main story, be aware, these are not in order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Concerned_Citizen/pseuds/A_Concerned_Citizen
Summary: Scenes from the first/main work in this series, Catalyst, that aren't in the main story.This is a haikyuu/hunger games AU that focuses on Kenma as the main character, enjoy.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka, Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin
Series: Catalyst [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927330
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks!
> 
> Don't really feel fantastic tonight but wanted to get this out and not procrastinate so I'll be brief.
> 
> Thank you!  
> To everyone coming here from Catalyst, I sincerely thank you and I hope you enjoy this first chapter and tell me what you think. It is Yachi's POV of chapter 16 (the start of the games) and I'm actually really proud of it. Before this Yachi's POV wasn't really included as part of the main story because it didn't quite fit but she's become one of my favorites to write and this idea was holding me hostage so... this is it I guess.
> 
> Enjoy!

Yachi smiled lightly, the action feeling almost flimsy. A slow, awful kind of tension was working it’s way through her. The slivers of despair were curling around her heart, but she tried furiously to push them away.

Today was the first day of the games. Today Yamamoto and Kenma would go into the games…

She hated it. She hated it so much.

It was the first time she was a designer for the games, before this she just worked with the high society of the Capitol. She didn’t know how she had managed to get a job here, Yachi wasn’t the best at this after all.

Regardless though, she was here. Yachi was here and involved in the games. Before she didn’t fully understand the severity of the tournament, didn’t- couldn’t- grasp the utter evil that was the games. It was so, so cruel to her now. She didn’t have to know the tributes before, she didn’t have to witness the deaths of _human beings_. They used to just be meaningless names and faces on a screen, another form of entertainment.

Now…

Now they were her friends.

Because that’s what they were. Her friends. She had spent weeks with them, technically she was designing outfits for them while they were in the Capitol but after a while it felt more like hanging out.

She got to know Yamamoto, his recklessness and his passion. She also came to understand that he was friendly and caring. He didn’t pretend like so many of the Capitol did. He spoke truthfully and bluntly. It was… so nice. She loved to talk with him.

Yachi also met Kenma. Since Kiyoko was primarily his designer she spoke to him less but Yachi still talked to him quite a lot. He was quiet and seemed almost invisible until he starting speaking. Then he was sarcastic and biting in his remarks, but even those held some semblance of fondness. Kenma never complained. That was perhaps the most notable thing Yachi could say. He hadn’t complained about anything, his situation, the annoyance of getting outfits fitted properly. He just… quietly took it and moved on. Kenma was, like Yamamoto, a genuine person.

The two were her friends now.

Was that what made it hurt?

Yachi was in the ‘main viewing room’, essentially a huge banquet that went on for several days while the games commenced. The most distinguished people in the Capitol were there as potential sponsors. Game makers when not on their shift would sit and watch too. Then there were the escorts, mentors and designers. The designers weren’t required to come but both her and Kiyoko attended. They were all there to support their tributes and try convince sponsors of the teens success. Large tv’s lined the walls and hung from the ceiling. No matter where you faced you were faced with a clear view of the arena. Noise was a constant in the large hall, chattering and discussion echoing throughout the area. Yachi was seated on a couch with an unknown drink in her hand. Kiyoko was seated next to her while Takeda was talking to people and Ukai was sulking alone in the corner. She flinched lightly as the sound crept higher, to an almost unbearable and overwhelming wave of noise.

Suddenly, it all went quiet.

The blonde was startled, “what- what’s going on?” she whispered to Kiyoko.

“It’s starting.” Came the reply, the dark-haired designer’s voice was tinged with something Yachi couldn’t identify.

“Oh.”

Kiyoko’s hand reached for hers and gave it a tiny squeeze, “yeah.”

Yachi knew it was coming, but she couldn’t help the tiny gasp that escaped her as the screens around her all flickered to life. Loud cheers and the clinking of glasses echoed through the room for a moment before it quickly became oppressively silent again.

A crisp voice filled the quiet and began counting down.

The blonde watched with bated breath as the tributes all stood on their podiums.

Kiyoko had been with Kenma before he was sent in and Yachi had been with Yamamoto, immediately after they were ushered into the viewing room, so Yachi hadn’t seen Kenma all day.

The teen didn’t look so good, his skin seemed pale and his chest was moving quickly with erratic breaths. Yachi really, really hoped it was just the camera and screen making it look worse than it was, but deep down she knew that wasn’t the case.

The countdown continued and Yachi tried to swallow the bile in her throat and distract herself, but her thoughts kept coming back to the poor pair of teens about to die.

It was so… stupid! It was so stupid and unfair and evil and so, so cruel!

Before she became a designer it was so, so easy to pretend like it wasn’t real, like the Capitol wasn’t just a bunch of murderers.

Now, faced with her friends imminent deaths she realised she couldn’t pretend anymore.

Yachi could never say that this was okay. She couldn’t just act like it was nothing, that these innocent lives were worthless.

But that didn’t really matter did it? Because right now they were still counting down.

“!0!” Various ignorant citizens cheered.

“9!” Yachi could see Takeda excuse himself from a conversation with a strained smile.

“8!” Loud, happy laughter filled the air.

“7!” Ukai’s knuckled were going white as he clenched his fists at his side.

“6!” Clapping echoed through the room.

“5!” Kiyoko was gripping Yachi’s hand tightly but not looking at her, focusing on the screen in front of them with a burning gaze.

“4!” Excited tension floated through the banquet hall.

“3!” _Yachi really had to wonder…_

“2!” Beaming smiles became blinding

“1!” _…what was the point?_

~*~

Yachi _finally_ felt Kiyoko’s tight grip on her hand loosen slightly.

The bloodbath was over. Kenma and Yamamoto were still alive. She refused to remember the blood now of Kenma’s hands and instead focused on the pure, elated joy filling her.

A desperate laugh was ripped from her throat and a wobbly smile bloomed on her face.

_They were okay._

_If only for now, her friends were okay._

She knew though, that whatever happiness she was feeling could not hope to match Ukai and Takeda’s. The pair were practically glowing, what with the way they were both beaming. The poor pair of weary men needed a little bit of good, to know they hadn’t _completely_ doomed two more children.

Next to her, Kiyoko had a weak smile and lightly shaking shoulders.

Yachi pushed away any guilt and sadness she felt. Other tributes were dead but… Kenma and Yamamoto weren’t. It was so selfish but… she was almost glad. Yachi was almost okay with the fact that several people had died if her friends lived.

It was a sobering realization.

That she probably wasn’t much better than the cruel sadists she condemned…

_No! She was happy right now. Yachi couldn’t think like that right now. Happy… she just had to be happy for a little while longer._

Yachi snapped herself back to reality and focused on the room around her. Noise crashed over her like a tidal wave and it was all she could do not to drown in it. Despite this, she pushed herself up to her feet, letting go of Kiyoko’s hand with a small smile.

“I’m going to grab something to eat, I’ll be back in a minute.”

The dark-haired woman gave her a smile and a nod, “Okay, I’ll be here.”

With that the blonde set off into the crowd. She flinched as people bumped into her and muttered several apologies before finally finding the food and drinks table. An array of beautiful food sat atop pristine cloth and décor. Yachi frowned before grabbing two fruity glasses of punch with small flowers wound around the drink. She snatched a small tray and loaded it up with smaller snacks before making her way back. The designer was significantly more careful this time and avoided any large groups so as not to bump into anyone and spill anything.

“I come bearing snacks!” Yachi announced with a smile.

Kiyoko, who had been facing the other way, turned to her with a pearly-white grin. “Thank you Hitoka.”

She blushed lightly while putting the pray down, “no problem…”

“Cheers!” the dark-haired designer said, picking up a glass of punch.

Yachi took the other, raising her hand to make the drinks meet. “Che- “

Just as the glasses were about to lightly clash noise exploded in the room, causing Yachi to startle.

“Huh? What’s happening? Why is everyone- “

Her eyes found the screen, displaying an image of Oikawa running across the rocks of the arena towards Kenma, who was stood still on the beach.

Ice suddenly filled Yachi’s veins.

“No… they were okay… they- “ Yachi whispered, free hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock.

Kiyoko’s grip on the glass was suddenly tight and her knuckles were pale. The woman’s eyes were hazy and unfocused.

Yachi wanted to believe that this wasn’t happening. She wanted to believe that Kenma would be okay but… Oikawa was tall and muscular… there was almost no way Kenma could win, and since he hadn’t noticed Oikawa he couldn’t escape.

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no._

Maybe if she said ‘no’ enough times she’d wake up and find that this whole thing was just a terrible dream.

Oikawa had arrived at the beach; he was taking a knife from his belt. The cameras zoomed up on the intense look on his face, carefully aiming the blade at the unsuspecting tribute.

 _“KENMA!”_ came another tributes voice, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Yachi wanted to scream and cry and yell and Kenma to _do something dammit_ and move but… she couldn’t. Yachi was absolutely useless.

The brunet on the screens flicked his wrist back and then-

Then he let the blade fly.

In a flash of grey there was suddenly another figure on the beach.

The sound of glass shattering filled Yachi’s ears as Yamamoto’s body fell onto the sand and the glass in her hand fell with him.

_NO! YAMAMOTO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, **NO….**_

Loud, suffocating laughter filled the air and Yachi wanted to scream, her heart was shattering in her chest and these people- no. These _monsters-_ were _laughing?_

She had to go- she had to leave. She couldn’t be here, in the same space as these ignorant sadists.

Yachi pushed away from everyone including Kiyoko.

The woman was staring disconnectedly at the ground but snapped back to reality.

“Hitoka! Hold on- wait!”

She was already moving.

This time Yachi didn’t go slowly or apologize when bumping into people. She shoved her way through the crowd so she could just _get the hell out._

Suddenly, a bathroom sign in the corner felt like her saviour. Yachi pulled open one of the doors to a pristine, decadent bathroom before slamming it behind her. She fumbled with the lock for a second before collapsing onto the tile, ignoring the sharp pain in her legs.

Her eyes slid in and out of focus and erratic breathing overtook her. Small droplets fell on the floor and Yachi brought a shaky hand to her cheek.

_Oh… when had she started crying?_

Hopelessness crashed over her and her lip trembled as more tears spilled over her face.

Is this what it was like to feel hate? Yachi hadn’t felt it before, but in that moment, that moment of pure clarity crying on the floor of a bathroom,

Yachi realized she truly hated the games.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ukai.
> 
> That's the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Merry Christmas!
> 
> Hope y'all are having good days. I feel a bit sick but it's fine, I wanted to post this and get it up.  
> There won't be an update on the actual main story for a while (The last few weeks I haven't been able to write cause reasons and I won't be able to until well past new years) but I'm hoping to get chapter 30 done very soon.
> 
> I have maybe 3 more scenes to write for chapter 30 and then we are well on our way.
> 
> For now though, enjoy this chapter!

Ukai was a bitter soul.

Even before his games he had been inclined to use dark humour and spoke harshly. That natural tendency had manifested into something much darker after his games. His ‘moment of glory’ as the Capitol would have him say.

He was less humorous now. The sardonic words that fell from his lips like poison weren’t lies, just specific versions of the truth.

_‘Life is wonderful in the Capitol and my home back in district 5’_

He remembered saying it after his games, a vicious smile that stretched slightly too wide on his face. The thing is the words weren’t a lie. Life was ‘wonderful.’ He had everything he could ever need. Food, booze, the ability to get almost anything he wanted from the Capitol. It was heaven.

But God did it resemble hell.

Waking up in a cold sweat every night -he never slept for more than a few hours, and even that was lucky- a scream on the tip of his tongue. Poisonous words that were etched into his bones falling from his lips again and again in front of a cracked mirror that didn’t show him. It showed the brutal victor everyone thought he was. It showed him the reason he was an outcast even in his ‘home.’ _HA! Home. What an **idiotic** concept._

_‘I’m ok, it’s over.’_

Lie.

_‘I’m still me, it’s over’_

Lie!

_‘I’m never going back, it’s over’_

LIE.

_‘It. Is. Over.’_

**FUCKING! LIE!**

Every goddamned year. The same situation. Every. Fucking. Time.

He’d get two tributes, both scared with their worlds ripped out from under them. Both treated him like a holy grail, like their trump card. _He won the games! He can help me survive!_

He couldn’t help them survive. Not really. _Maybe_ one of them had a _fraction_ of potential. _Maybe._ The other one would die, a pointless sacrifice to a shitty cause and because of a crappy situation they were forced into.

Somehow, he thought the ones that had skill were worse. Because each time he thought _maybe this time it will be different. Maybe I won’t fail another person. Another **child.**_

.

It always ended the same way.

Ukai collapsed on his bathrooms floor. The room decadent and extravagant and beautiful and absolutely fucking disgusting around him. Ukai would lay in a pool of guilt and regret and he’d vomit and scream and break down all over again.

It never took Ittetsu long to join him.

The blonde knew, deep down, that sometimes the escort had a harder job than he did. The sweet, kind-hearted man would smile at cameras and congratulate the years victor and say with the same, bright, cheerful, happy, **fake** smile,

_‘I look forward to next year’s games.’_

Ittetsu would come crashing into Ukai’s rooms, knowing exactly where to look. He’d burst through the door, making sure Ukai heard him enter the main bedroom beforehand so as not to startle him (even in grief the man was so… nice.) before collapsing with him. The man would tear off whatever ridiculous wig he had on and rip away whatever ‘fashionable’ clothing he was required to wear. Ukai knew Ittetsu enjoyed the Capitol fashion to some extent, but he also understood all too well the overwhelming urge to get away from it when that same Capitol had just killed 23 teens for _entertainment._

Quite frankly, if Ukai didn’t have Ittetsu there he would probably have died. Not suicide, no, victors were under constant surveillance and if they weren’t (which was rare) there would be nothing that could hurt them in their rooms. He would have simply died. His soul would have shrivelled into nothing but bitter contempt and hopelessness.

The escort- _his_ escort- kept him sane, and in return he did the same. They held each other and they sobbed and Ittetsu would hold his hair back as he puked into the pearly white toilet and he’d cradle the man when he began to furiously scratch at himself with trademark nails so sharp they could make you bleed so that Ittetsu couldn’t hurt himself.

He remembered, distantly, the first time they had been paired together. The year after his games was the worst of his life. Nightmares all the time, the only time he slept was when his body collapsed completely. When he had been called to the Capitol for his ‘new and exciting journey as a mentor’ he nearly spat in the messengers face, wishing it was the president’s. The only thing stopping him being the escort that smiled at him with a wobbly sincerity.

_Oh._

That was the first thought Ukai remembers.

_That kid is going to get eaten alive._

Ha. So was he really.

The two of them hadn’t bonded immediately. It took most of the day of them ‘discussing’ tactics (they actually just sat in a choking silence) before the reaping. Ukai had ended up drinking copious amounts to try cover up his pain, never mind he wasn’t technically of legal age yet. The only thing he remembers was the way Ittetsu- Takeda at that point- took his hand and squeezed it before leading him to the stage and sitting him down. He also remembers vaguely the way the man had given a wide, pearly smile that looked so, very desperate now that Ukai knew what to look for. Two names were called. No, not names. Sacrifices.

The train ride was painful. Two young teens, only really a few years younger than himself, both looking to him for advice. For a saviour.

They died.

They died immediately.

One ran to the cornucopia and got slaughtered in seconds.

The other ran to the forest, trying to get away from the chaos.

It didn’t work.

Ukai can remember stumbling to his bathroom and choking out vomit immediately, tears streaming down his cheeks and sobs wracking his frame.

Then Ittetsu came.

A door slamming and loud footsteps were approaching. He knew that nobody else except Ittetsu would come in right now, but he wasn’t normally this loud-

The escort came crashing into the room with makeup streaming and his wig half torn. A choked cry had him falling into Ukai’s arms. Normally he would have flinched at the contact, but he had welcomed it.

Ukai had seen Ittetsu start scratching at his skin with his ridiculously long, incredibly sharp nails. Blood was coming out of deeper cuts, but the man didn’t seem to notice.

 _‘Takeda- ‘_ he had tried. _‘Ittetsu’_

That gained the man’s hazy attention. Ukai nodded to his arms, with their tiny streams of red.

_‘oh.’_

There had been a beat of silence.

 _‘I could do it.’_ The man had suddenly whispered, voice cracking.

_‘do what?’_

Ittetsu had run his nails lightly over his wrists, not deep enough to cut, or even scratch, but Ukai got the point.

 _‘If you do it. I will. I have no reason to live anymore… you’re my only friend, you’re the only thing keeping me from slipping away’_ Ukai responded slowly.

The other man had stared at him before his eyes crashed into tears again. _‘I know.’_ Ittetsu said, hugging him tighter. _‘but I don’t want to die. Not really…’_

Ukai understood the feeling. He had clung so desperately to life, others had died for it even, and to give it up seemed… like a waste… instead of saying this he settled for a sentiment that had filled him when Ittetsu had come to him for support and to support him in turn.

_‘You’re a good friend Takeda.’_

A tiny moment of surprise.

 _‘Call me Ittetsu please.’_ The escort- no. his _friend_ said.

_‘Alright.’_

Since that day they never spoke of that time in the bathroom. They never revisited the topic either. Like Ukai said, that year was the worst. He would still be happy to die, but he had something of a reason to live now.

The years after that had slowly gotten easier. Not _good_ of course. But manageable. He could survive, even feel alive sometimes, as long as he had Ittetsu with him to weather the storm.

Until the 79th Hunger Games.

There was _something_ about one of the district 5 tributes. He moved in a way that suggested both intelligence and alertness that you didn’t generally find in those that weren’t careers. Of course, Ukai later learned that Kenma was actually from a career district but that’s not the point.

He and Ittetsu had a routine down now. They never got too close to the tributes anymore. Not after a few too many nights spent drowning in whiskey and guilt. That’s why Ukai thought he would be somewhat ‘ok’ if these tributes died. He didn’t have a bond with them so he wouldn’t care when they inevitably died-

Then Yamamoto was killed.

Ukai found himself in the bathroom again, Ittetsu soon there too.

The pair walked out of his room a few hours later, both looking pristine and crisp. Blank looks on their faces despite their raging thoughts and emotions.

He was surprised to discover Kenma wasn’t dead. _The kid did get a 12… maybe it wasn’t so surprising._ Actually maybe he could survi-

No.

He was not falling into that trap. Not again.

But Kenma still didn’t die. If anything, he thrived.

A tiny flare of hope existed in his heart no matter how much he tried to squash it out.

These tiny thoughts of optimism (a trait he didn’t think he still possessed) let him get a moment of sleep. Quiet dreams of a kid that didn’t die because of him were floating through his mind.

~*~

Ukai groaned as he felt someone tap his shoulder. He barely got sleep as it is, who the hell was waking him up-

“Keishin!” Ittetsu’s voice made him open his eyes at the startling urgency in his tone.

The blonde glared up at the escort. “What?”

Takeda’s grim face stared down at him. “They’re releasing the final challenge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone <3

**Author's Note:**

> Have a good day/night everyone, hope you liked it.


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